


To Let Go

by 100hearteyes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Lexa Lives, abby is judgmental as always but she has her reasons, clexa softness and fluff, or so she says
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 04:11:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100hearteyes/pseuds/100hearteyes
Summary: It’s a strange feeling, uncomfortable even. To know that your daughter is happy — and to hate everything that the person who makes her happy represents, to trust them so little you would rather hurt your daughter now by removing them from her life than see her hurt a lot more later when they inevitably break her heart. So Abby feels her heart expand at every smile that blooms in Clarke’s lips — only to feel it constrict painfully every time she remembers who triggers it.--Pike has been defeated and the Coalition is at peace once more. Abby finds out about Clarke and Lexa's relationship sooner than they wanted to come out with it.





	To Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission for Eliza's Koh Tao Primary auction. The person who asked for it has since read it and thought I should share it with the fandom. So here it is :)

Lexa gets new of Pike's deposition on a full moon. The report is not thorough — the ambassador led a revolution of words rather than violence and managed to convince over half of Arkadia to have another election. Pike lost and was judged for his crimes; all was well among the Sky People again. Lexa wouldn't put it past them to fabricate yet another problem that their ambassador would have to solve for them, though.

Clarke came back to Polis a week later. It was afternoon, orange and chilly, and Lexa was stood at the doors with a small retinue to await the Sky ambassador's arrival. The dark blues and purples of the night have already started to seep into daytime's gentle colors when a party of four comes out of the forest.

Lexa barely hides her disappointment at realizing that Clarke is not alone, even though she was expecting that and she knows it could not be any other way; she's grateful that Clarke was not vulnerable to the dangers of traversing the forest on her own. Still, her eyes only find Clarke's as the Sky part approaches and the relief she sees in them is enough to assuage half her worries — the other half will only be dispelled once she meets Clarke without the weight of social pretense and political responsibilities.

Minutes later, Clarke stands before her flanked by her mother, Indra, and Octavia. Still Clarke's gaze is heavy with meaning when she steps forward and extends her arm to Lexa.

"Commander, I bring you witnesses to Pike's fall. And my people's deepest thanks for not laying waste to Arkadia when you had every right to." Lexa quirks an eyebrow at having her words thrown back at her. "For letting us solve this problem the peaceful way, as is your legacy now. Blood didn't need to have blood for justice to be made," Clarke adds.

Lexa nods and clasps Clarke's forearm. "I trusted that you would be able to reason with your people, Ambassador. You proved me right yet again," she says, and it's Clarke's turn to raise an eyebrow.

Clarke is about to speak again when another voice joins the conversation. "Commander, it's a pleasure to see you again."

Lexa's eyes are averted towards Abby and she is not blind to the lie in those words. Still she nods in acknowledgement. "Likewise, Chancellor Doctor Abby."

She notices the fond twitch of Clarke's lips at the needless care to add both of Abby's titles. Lexa barely resists the urge to shrug it off — Abby is Clarke's mother after all; a better impression than what she made before may be overdue.

"As Clarke said, thank you for giving us the time to deal with Pike," Abby says, pulling Lexa's focus back to her. "I trust that you will now keep your end of the deal and treat us as one your own."

Lexa feels the need to growl at Clarke's mother, but settles that with a fierce clench of her hands behind her back and nods politely instead. "I shall continue to do what I have done thus far, then."

Abby's mouth opens to argue, but it is Clarke who speaks first. "Commander, we are tired after a long journey. Perhaps you could show us to our quarters?"

 

\----

 

It is much later, after meetings and official obligations, when Lexa finds herself at Clarke’s door. She stands there for a few minutes as she struggles to gather her courage to knock. When she does, the door opens after just a few seconds, revealing Clarke behind it — and oh, is it a sight for sore eyes.

It feels just like that night over two months ago, when Lexa came here to say thank you and ended up a step closer to reconnecting with Clarke. This time, however, Clarke greets her with a shy smile and steps aside right away so Lexa can enter. And Lexa responds with a bashful smile of her own as she steps in.

They stand facing each other once the door is closed behind them, lips worried between teeth and eyes flitting between the floor and the other, awkward and unsure, until Clarke takes her hand. Lexa looks up unrestrained at last, and she finds those eyes she loves, blue and welcoming and soft.

“Welcome back,” she whispers into the space between them, lame but an opening for more. If so Clarke wishes.

Clarke’s smile widens a fraction and then there is a hand around Lexa’s neck, pulling her toward the ambassador, who bridges the gap. Their lips meet and it feels just like the first time, and the second, and the third. It feels new yet familiar, like her lips are meant to be locked with Clarke’s, and Lexa is sure that it will never cease to make her heart race.

Clarke is the one to break the kiss and draw their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

Lexa can’t stifle the wide smile that tugs at her lips. “I missed you too.”

The way things progress from there is natural. Their kisses become more heated, their words sweeter, and their touches more daring. Soon their clothes are on the floor, while their bodies are on the bed, tangled and tracing new pathways to already charted territory. When they find it, it shakes them just as much as the first time.

Night falls upon the tower, but the many candles Lexa ordered to be lit in Clarke’s room keep it bathed in soft light. Clarke’s arm is draped over Lexa’s waist and her nose is buried in chestnut curls. Seldom has Lexa felt more at peace.

She turns in Clarke’s arms to see that the blonde is awake and places a kiss on the tip of her nose that makes blue eyes flutter shut. “How was your nap?”

Clarke hums and tightens her hold on Lexa’s waist, eyes still closed. “Wonderful.”

Lexa feels her smile widen, unbridled, and leans over Clarke to kiss her. They hold hands as their lips kiss, until Lexa pulls away, not without hesitation.

“I should probably go now.”

Clarke frowns, apparently confused. “Why?”

Lexa was not expecting resistance, so she doesn’t know how to explain. As it turns out, she should not have allowed her self-doubt to let her think that Clarke would agree in the first place. So she struggles for words, now.

“I thought… Maybe you wouldn’t want me to stay the night.”

Understanding dawns on Clarke’s face and Lexa feels all the more embarrassed for it. Clarke takes their joined hands to her lips and kisses the back of Lexa’s. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want you to stay the night?”

Lexa purses her lips at the realization that Clarke wants to make her actually say it. She understands that it will be better for them, in the long run, to open all channels of communication early on, but right now she finds it rather inconvenient.

Yet Lexa wants to do right by Clarke and show that she can be trusted, so she wets her lips and draws in a deep breath before speaking carefully. “I thought…” She tucks both hands under her cheek and feels both more vulnerable and safer for it. “I thought you might not want me anymore. That you would have changed your mind while you were away and—“

She’s cut off by Clarke’s kiss. Lexa lets herself get lost in the feeling of Clarke’s lips on her own, Clarke’s palm on her jaw, Clarke’s upper body pushing her back on the mattress and leaning on her. It’s a brief, albeit deep kiss and it serves to leave Lexa in a daze, chasing Clarke’s lips when they pull away. She can’t help the way her eyes widen and her lips part in awe at the woman above her.

“I want to respect you and your wishes, Clarke,” she whispers reverently. “Your needs are my own.”

Every line of Clarke’s face softens and Lexa’s heart jumps at realizing that she is the cause of it. She feels fingers tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and her eyes close at the sensation. They open again when a thumb brushes one of her cheeks. Clarke’s smile is tender, whereas her eyes shine with fervor.

“You don’t need to worry, Lexa. I don’t want someone to turn to only when I feel like it. I want _you_. And that includes early mornings with bad breath, late nights in a bad mood, and every moment in between.”

 

\----

 

It should feel odd to wake up tangled up with Clarke; an arm over her hip, her own arm around the Sky girl's waist, Clarke's hair tickling her chin, their bodies pressed together like the slightest stretch of skin uncovered would . It should feel odd, but all it feels is natural. Obvious. Meant to be. Yet it sends a thrill through Lexa's spine and she needs to release a breath so as not to burst with exhilaration. It is the best feeling in a world that doesn't allow her many pleasures.

Clarke stirs and Lexa feels the stretch and coil of every muscle in her lover's body, so fully in contact are they. It takes long seconds for Clarke to groan awake and open her eyes to stare up at Lexa with a sleepy, half smile that steals the breath from her lungs.

"Hey," Clarke says, breathy and raspy, and it draws a foolish smile from her.

"Hi, Clarke."

Clarke wraps the hand around Lexa's hip more tightly and pulls her closer and into a kiss. It's languid, exploratory, as though they have all the time in the world. There are so many responsibilities, meetings and hearings to attend, but they can pretend for just a few minutes that nothing weighs on their shoulders or their schedules.

They miss the sound of door opening and are only jerked back to reality by a sharp cry of, "Clarke!"

They pull apart right away and Lexa scrambles for a knife she doesn't have. It takes her a second to finally realise what started them.

Abby stands at the foot of Clarke's bed, her face a horrified grimace, though Lexa detects even more emotions in the deep lines of her face and wide stretch of her eyes. There is shock, disappointment, disgust. She can name each one and assign them to their cause through mere plausibility, as well as to every reason for the anger that rises fast within her and takes long seconds to quiet.

"Get off of my daughter!" Lexa wraps the sheets closer over her body and scoots away from Clarke, careful to keep track of the mile-a -second changes in Abby's expression. There is disbelief now, too, and it finds a fleeting home in Abby's words. "How dare you force yourself into my daughter's bed."

Lexa can't help an affronted frown and the warning growl that takes over her voice. "I guarantee you that my presence in this bed is far from imposed."

Abby sputters and Clarke finds an opening to intervene.

"Mom please just- don't say anything." Clarke turns to Lexa and holds her hand; Abby ceases to exist. "Lexa... Can you please leave?"

She gapes. "I'm not leaving you alone with her."

Clarke smirks and kisses her cheek. "You're sweet. It's just my mom though, I can handle her."

They hear a scoff but refuse to let it break their bubble. Lexa looks into Clarke's eyes, finds them resolute, and grabs her nightgown, thanking her last self for having the forethought to leave it draped over the bed.

Lexa would like to say that she is too dignified to eavesdrop, but the truth is that when she closes the door behind her she makes no move to head to her room. Instead she stays there, trying to catch bits and pieces of Clarke and Abby's conversation. It's not hard, what with the way that both women's voices raise after some time.

"You can't dictate who I want to be with!"

"She is a savage! I doubt she can even read."

"Well for your information, she was reading Kant the other day."

Abby scoffs audibly. "Of course. Was that before or after she read _Beauty and the Beast_?"

Lexa frowns indignantly. What's wrong with reading that book? She quite liked it; it reminded her of her and Clarke.

"Hey, I loved that movie, mom! It was beautiful."

Thank you, Clarke.

"Regardless. She's a bloodthirsty tyrant, Clarke. She's killed hundreds of our people."

"So have we!" Clarke yells, exasperated. "So have I!"

Silence.

"You know that's not what I meant, Clarke. I've told you. Maybe there are no good—"

"Exactly. But if there were any, Lexa would be one of them. We killed 300 peacekeepers in their sleep. Lexa had every right to decimate us. And yet, she allowed us to solve that problem internally."

"Please, Clarke. We both know whose decision that really was. Especially now that I'm aware of your little tryst."

Lexa has been in power for too long to feel her leadership and decisions threatened by Abby's words, but it does hurt to hear what she has with Clarke treated as a measly affair. She knows it is so much more — Clarke told her as much just minutes ago.

"That only comes to show how little you know her," Clarke says with disdain. "If I have any influence whatsoever in Lexa's decisions it's because she respects me and she treats me as her equal. Something no one else does. Lexa is special. It's your own fault if you can't see that. But you have no right to call her a savage and try to tell me that I can't be with her."

Lexa hears footsteps head towards the door and she is not quick enough to hide away; she has no place to hide away in either. The door opens and Clarke strides out of her bedroom, before stopping at the sight of a wide-eyed, guilty as they come Lexa.

Clarke walks up to her, arms crossed under her chest. "Did you hear what I said?"

Lexa nods. "I wanted to make sure you would be okay."

Clarke's arms unfold and her hands come to rest on Lexa's hips. "Good. Then you know I meant every word."

The corners of Lexa's lips pull up and she's about to close the space between them when a throat clears pointedly. She looks up to see one of her guards pretending not to see them, then looks back at Clarke with a smirk.

"Maybe we should finish this in my quarters."

"Or maybe you should go do whatever it is Commanders do during peace and we could meet in the evening. In your room."

Lexa's smile widens and she can't keep herself from pressing a kiss to Clarke's cheek. "I will see you later, Clarke."

 

\----

 

It starts when Lexa asks Clarke what a movie is, having heard her _niron_ say the word when referring to _Beauty and the Beast_ during her fight with Abby. It becomes inevitable when Clarke's eyes shine and she starts explaining how people used to make images move and talk inside blank canvases. Light triggers the magic, from what Lexa gathers — rather clumsily, she admits.

Clarke tells her it's like a play, but it already happened and was "filmed", whatever the word means, to show later. Lexa wonders why they wouldn't just show it right away. Why keep it for later? Doesn't it lose authenticity? There are too many questions that she needs answered and the timing is perfect — Lexa was planning to visit Arkadia to check for herself how things are going after Pike's deposition. If they go together, Clarke can finally show her what a movie is. As long as nothing jumps out of the canvas, it should be fine.

Clarke's melodic laugh when Lexa says that and the say she proceeds to tell how during one of the first times people saw movies they actually thought a train was coming for them makes the trip mandatory.

That is how less than a week later they find themselves on the way to Arkadia. Clarke rides by Lexa's side, while Abby and Marcus are by the tail of the retinue. Lexa loves the lulling, tilting motion of horse riding; how her hips tip to one side and then the other in repeat. Clarke is not so fond of the feeling, but she has improved leaps and bounds as a rider since Lexa first met her.

Lexa catches Clarke's attention by butting the sky girl's foot with her own. Clarke turns to her with a smirk.

"I'm having a _déjà vu_." Lexa remembers Clarke explaining to her what that expression meant, so she quirks an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"Well, remember the last time we travelled to Arkadia together? How we started pushing at each other's feet?"

The memory tugs Lexa's lips up into a smile, but she puffs out her chest in a playful attempt to look haughty. "I have no recollection of what you are talking about, Clarke. Heda is too dignified to play footsie."

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "You don't know what Goth means but you know footsie?"

Lexa ducks her head and lowers her voice to make sure that only Clarke can hear her. "I once found this book in the Polis library, it was practically hidden from view. It was called _The Indecent Toe: Two Ladies Playing Footsie At Lunch_. There was a lot I did not understand in the book, but it was a good escape."

"Did you put it back?"

"Costia threatened bodily harm if I ever got rid of it." She smirks as she remembers Costia's warning tone, how deep, brown eyes levelled her with a stern stare that shone with mirth.

"Costia was a smart girl," Clarke concludes with a nod. "You should definitely show it to me." She pauses, and then adds with caution, "If you want to."

Lexa feels her heart expand at the care behind Clarke's words and she smiles as wide as the situation allows. "Clarke, I would love to."

"If your mother doesn't kill me first," she adds some seconds later, after a quick glance back to check how everyone is holding up.

Clarke looks back and she must find the same Lexa did — Abby, glowering steadily at the two of them.

"She wouldn't dare."

Despite Clarke's resolute words, the mood falls and the rest of their ride is silent.

"I hate that I am driving a wedge between you and your mother," Lexa admits with a sigh much later, when the night surrounds them and they are lying together in her bed, Clarke having escaped her own tent.

Clarke scoffs. "You're not. She is. She's the one that can't see that her daughter is happy with another person, or doesn't want to see, because she can't get past the fact that you're the Commander." Clarke turns to face her and Lexa melts at the soft, loving smile in those beautiful pink lips. "I wish she would look past Heda and allow herself to see Lexa."

"They are one and the same, Clarke. There isn't a point where one ends and the other begins."

"No, there isn't," Clarke concedes. "But that's because they overlap. And, yes, while it takes understanding one to lo- care about the other, they are not one and the same. They're intertwined."

It makes Lexa feel vulnerable, though stronger at the same time. Clarke's words, so accurate and true, feel like all her bull’s-eyes have been exposed for arrows to pierce through. Yet it is undeniably empowering, in a way, to know that someone knows you so well — and that you have managed to keep at least a semblance of yourself while wearing a mask that never comes off.

"How do you know this?" she asks, as cautious as she is careful. She is both terrified and desperate to know.

They speak in hushed tones, cheeks over hands and faces so close their breaths mingle, but far enough apart that they can still look into each other's eyes.

Clarke levels her with a stare that is equal parts storm and sunlight. "Months ago, Wanheda bowed before Heda. That same night, _you_ swore fealty to _me_. Lexa, I've known you for less than a year and most of that has been spent peeling layers of the Commander to get to you. The more time we spend together, the more you allow me to see of you. I’m aware of how lucky, how privileged I am for that, for being allowed to see something only one person before me has ever seen."

"Costia saw a different version of me," Lexa corrects. A lighter, more innocent one. Costia's death and the many things that happened afterwards shaped her so that sometimes Lexa feels like an entirely different person. The walls around her are higher and thicker than they were before. Or were, before she met Clarke. It scares her, how easily this girl who came from the sky is destroying them. "What you see has never met a pair of eyes other than your own, Clarke."

"Well," Clarke smiles softly, "I'm glad that each of us got to see a unique version of you. Both special."

Lexa sighs and rolls onto her back. She gazes at the ceiling of her tent, willing it to become transparent and let her see the stars. It does not obey her, and deep down she is thankful; in a world where everyone hangs on to her every word, it is refreshing to be reminded that nature will not bend to her command. Just like the woman lying beside her. Lexa lays her right hand on Clarke's left and turns her face to meet those eyes as blue as the midday summer sky.

"I’m scared, Clarke.” She has half a mind to thumb at the lines that form in Clarke’s forehead. She stays still, scared that the slightest movement will scare her confession away. “What I feel for you is so grand… I fear that it will trivialize what I had with Costia.”

Clarke shakes her head ‘no’, tucks back a strand of Lexa’s hair, kisses her temple with lingering lips. “They’re both special in their own way. You were younger and innocent, and Costia was your first love. That’s such a beautiful space to take up in someone’s heart. It’s unrepeatable.” Clarke cards gentle fingers through her hair and places a kiss on her forehead. “What we have is… more mature, more grounded. It has its own scars, too. And maybe it feels more… meant to be. But it doesn’t take away at all from what you had with Costia. If anything, maybe we would never have had what we do now if you never loved her.”

“I would like to believe that we would have connected regardless,” Lexa says, squeezing Clarke’s hands that she still holds. “It feels… inevitable.”

Clarke smiles, soft and loving, and she knows that the day nears when they will be ready to exchange words that go beyond their letters.

“Me too. But would you ever relinquish your love story with Costia, in any circumstance?”

“No,” Lexa answers immediately.

“There you have it.” Clarke’s fingers trace a path from her forehead to her temple, down her cheeks and her neck and down to her clavicle. A warm palm settles over Lexa’s heart. “Your heart is so big, so full of love… There’s enough space to fit a hundred love stories without casting shadows.”

Lexa uses her free hand to cup the back of Clarke’s neck as she feels a smile bloom on her lips. “I pray that the gods will be merciful enough to let me have just the two.”

Clarke’s smile widens beautifully and Lexa’s words are answered with a kiss.

 

//

 

“We have to go slower than this.” The way the Commander rolls her eyes aggravates Abby even further.

They are alone; in a clearing just a way’s away from the group for privacy. The Commander, Clarke, and the rest of the grounders have been travelling by horse, but the Arkadian group is doing the journey on foot. They are tired, their legs ache, and Abby is sure that her feet are growing blisters. It’s torture.

“We stretched a one-day journey into three days. We are already going slowly. Maybe if your people were willing to ride horses…”

“Maybe if your people we willing to go in our rovers…”

“Okay, enough!” Clarke exclaims, startling them both. Abby isn’t blind to the way that her daughter stands slightly closer to the Commander. It makes her blood boil. “Lexa’s people—“

“ _Our_ people,” the Commander corrects, earning a stern glare from Clarke.

“Now is really not the time, Lexa.” The Commander lowers her head, properly chastised. Abby can’t help smirking in triumph. “Lexa’s people are afraid to drive the rovers, while Arkadians are afraid to ride the horses. But we all have to compromise. The journey has been extending to three days, mom, I think we can afford to make an effort to withstand the pace.”

Abby throws her hands in the air as an exasperated sigh leaves her lips. “There you go taking her side again.”

Clarke gasps, the slack jaw and the furrowed eyebrows speaking of her affront. “It’s not about taking sides, mom! It’s about being fair!”

“We are your people, Clarke. It should always be about taking sides.”

At this, Lexa steps forward with a growl, creating a barrier between Abby and Clarke.

“Don’t you dare even imply that Clarke does not do enough for Skaikru,” she snarls. “I have never seen someone more dedicated to their clan. I am tired of watching your people belittling everything that Clarke has done, all the times that she has ensured your survival, and making her feel guilty for the decisions she makes for you.”

How dare she? How dare this _girl_ talk to her like that? How dare the Commander of the savages comment on her interactions with her daughter when the grounders do little more than grunt and scratch a lowly form of English to each other? When all they do is spill blood, all commanded by this very child?

“You have no right to lecture me on how to talk to my daughter. Especially not after you left her at the Mountain to die,” Abby accuses.

“You sent her back to Earth with ninety-nine other children as test subjects for your own survival.”

“Did your mother never teach you not to talk back?” she counters, crossing her arms.

Lexa’s demeanor becomes more aggressive all of a sudden, like a wounded animal about to strike back. “I do not have a mother.”

Everything in her begs her not to say her next words, but the mean side of her, the side that hates that the Commander shares a bed with her daughter wins out in the end: “Well, maybe you would know basic manners if you had one.”

Abby recoils with guilt right away, but all that is for nothing when she hears Clarke gasp in shock and sees deep hurt flash in the Commander’s eyes for a second, before a neutral mask replaces it. Clarke takes Lexa’s hand and pulls her away from Abby and back to the group. Abby follows a second later, her steps cautious and mute, aware that she has crossed a line.

She hears Lexa’s voice in the distance: “We are setting up camp right here. We will take half a day longer than predicted to get to Arkadia.”

Abby feels even more ashamed now.

 

\----

 

It annoys Abby that this time she is the one clearly in the wrong.

This time, she can’t fault Clarke for taking the Commander’s side. She can’t fault Clarke for staying with the Commander and turning her back on her. She can’t even fault her daughter for staying by the Commander’s side that evening instead of spending time with her people.

Clarke and the Commander only show up at the fire much later, when most of the grounders and Sky people have gone to bed. Abby is still talking to Marcus, but her focus diminishes exponentially when she spots the two girls sitting down side by side on the log opposite from hers, their bodies and faces slightly masked by the glare of the flames.

Abby does her best not to look, but she can’t keep her eyes off of the way that Clarke and the Commander sit so close, with shy smiles and lightly touching hands, not nearly as subtle as they think they are. She watches as Lexa leans her forehead on Clarke’s temple just for a second and how Clarke drops a quick kiss on the other girl’s pink-dusted cheek. She notices how their knees bump together and they surreptitiously take food from each other’s bowls. Above all, Abby doesn’t miss the way her daughter’s smile stretches wider and her eyes shine brighter than they ever have on the ground.

It’s a strange feeling, uncomfortable even. To know that your daughter is happy — and to hate everything that the person who makes her happy represents, to trust them so little you would rather hurt your daughter now by removing them from her life than see her hurt a lot more later when they inevitably break her heart. So Abby feels her heart expand at every smile that blooms in Clarke’s lips, only to feel it constrict painfully every time she remembers who triggers it.

“Go talk to them.” The words surprise her, but when she looks to her side, she sees only Marcus’s kind, knowing smile. He squeezes her hand and stands up. “Go. I’ll be waiting in the tent.”

Once she’s alone, she has no excuse not to go over to Clarke and Lexa. So she does. Two pairs of eyes look up at her with distrust when she stands in front of the couple. She didn’t expect it would make her so nervous.

“Commander, I… I think I owe you an apology.”

“You think?” Clarke snarks, but Lexa rests a hand on top of hers with a soothing nod.

“I’ve got this, Clarke.” Then the Commander turns to Abby. “Apology accepted, Chancellor Doctor Abby.” The girl stands and even though they’re practically the same height, Abby feels almost towered over. “I know you think I do not deserve your daughter. To be quite frank, I do not think I deserve her either. Regardless, I demand respect. Not because I am Heda, but because I respect you too.”

“I will respect you,” Abby agrees. “But don’t expect me to trust you.”

Lexa dips her head in acceptance. “Fair enough.”

The Commander heads back to her tent, leaving Abby and Clarke alone. Her daughter doesn’t waste any time.

“Just so you know, Lexa might’ve forgiven you, but I haven’t.”

“I know,” Abby says, unable to stifle a smile at her daughter’s feistiness. “I’m surprised she was so quick to forgive me.”

At this, Clarke rolls her eyes. It’s equal parts exasperated, annoyed, and fond. “She’s a big softie. Thinks she’s driving a wedge between you and me.”

“Isn’t she?” Abby enquires, raising an eyebrow as she sits down next to Clarke.

“No. You are. So I’m angry on behalf of how long she should be angry and on my own.”

“Just…” Abby raises her hands, then drops then with a sigh. “What do you see in her, Clarke? She betrayed you. She betrayed all of us.”

“Yeah… And it destroyed her. She cried, you know?” Abby can’t it doesn’t surprise her. “She cried when she left me. She doesn’t regret doing what was best for her people, but she does hurting me.”

“Tears or no tears, she betrayed you and left you to die. How can you trust her after that?”

The silence that follows is deafening. It’s Clarke who breaks it, with a small, tired voice.

“You think I didn’t think about it? You think I didn’t go over and over and over it in my head until I almost went crazy? You think I didn’t consider it before deciding to start a relationship with Lexa?”

“I don’t know, Clarke,” she shrugs. “I wasn’t there. You tell me.”

Clarke huffs out a mirthless laughter as her fingers play with her fingerless gloves. “The same day Pike and Bellamy killed three hundred peacekeepers in cold blood, Lexa risked her life to preserve our place in the Coalition.” Okay, this Abby didn’t know. “She fought to the death against Roan and she almost died before coming back and defeating him.”

“He’s alive, though. And so is she.”

“Lexa doesn’t kill needlessly,” Clarke says.  “Roan wasn’t guilty. Nia was. So Lexa killed her, gave him the Ice Nation throne, guaranteed an ally for life, and strengthened her position in the Coalition. All with a spear to Nia’s chest.”

Abby grimaces. “That sounds gruesome.”

“Really?” Clarke turns to her with wide eyes. “That’s what you focus on?”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, that wasn’t even the real story. Lexa was put in that position in the first place because her ambassadors made a vote of no confidence. They all voted against her. Except for me. My vote allowed her to duel instead of just,” Clarke swallows and it’s clear that the words don’t come easy, “being dethroned and killed. She kept the ambassadors afterwards. They deliberately condemned her to death and she still kept them. You know what she told me?” Abby shakes her head, shock growing with every word. “She told me that they were doing what they believed was right for their people. That’s when I understood her betrayal. Lexa was doing what she believed was right for her people. And now that we are her people, too, I know that she will never betray us again. I know she will protect us just as fiercely as she has every other clan in the Coalition. That’s all the reassurance I need. Well,” Clarke smiles like she’s in on a secret no one else is privy to. She probably is. “That and something else I won’t tell you about.”

“Be that as it may, what do you even find to be so appealing about her that you would want to… to date her?”

Clarke huffs out yet another mirthless laugh as she shakes her head. Abby feels like she’s the one being judged rather than the Commander.

“Lexa is… You probably won’t believe me, but she’s kind. She’s the kindest person I’ve ever met. She’s gentle, she’s loving, she’s attentive. She never judges me. She guides me, yes, and she helps me become a better leader, but she never tries to erase what I am. She believes in me, mom,” Clarke tells her with a longing smile. “So much. She sees something in me that no one does and that I haven’t seen myself. And she understands me. She knows what it is like to have so much responsibility thrust upon my shoulders at such a young age. She understands everything that I go through because she’s gone or is going through something similar herself.”

“Honey, if it’s understanding you’re after, I can get you a therapist.”

“A therapist wouldn’t understand. You can’t understand what you haven’t gone through. But that’s not just it. Lexa’s also really smart. She’s brilliant, really. She reads all these philosophy and leadership books, she can speak and write English fluently, and she’s so, so selfless. She gives all of her to her people. She wants nothing to herself. She’s so devoted to her role as the Commander that sometimes she forgets that Lexa exists.”

“And are you willing to live with that?” Abby asks. “Are you willing to share her with the whole world, to see more of the Commander than of Lexa?”

 “You don’t understand, mom. I fell for both.” The words seem to bring with them a realization that strikes Clarke speechless. After long moments, Clarke speaks again with a cautious, low voice. “They are not one and the same, but one wouldn’t be complete without the other. Lexa has so much love in her heart that she wouldn’t be complete if she didn’t have an outlet for it. And the Commander wouldn’t be so great a leader if she didn’t have Lexa’s heart sailing the vessel forward. And I have no qualms about sharing them with the world because at the end of the day, when her shoulder plate and her coat are sitting on a chair, when her hair is free of its braids and her forehead no longer bears her symbol… I get to pull Lexa from underneath the Commander, limb by limb, and see a side of her that no one else does.”

“I wish I could believe that, Clarke,” Abby sighs. She knows what she has seen during all these months on the ground. She’s seen it and she can’t erase it. She’s seen her daughter cry and run away, torn by the situations she was put in and by her own choices. And Abby knows whose fault it is.

“You can’t because you don’t want to”, Clarke snaps. But how can she want to see a brighter side of the woman that broke her daughter’s heart? The woman who left them all to die. “You know, when I’m among our people, someone is always blaming me for something. I feel like I’m always apologizing for something. Well, I said ‘I’m sorry’ to Lexa once. Do you know what she told me? ‘Don’t be’. That’s when I knew that I could spend a thousand years apologizing for things that weren’t my fault and I would still be judged for it. I could save our people’s lives a thousand times and I’d still be blamed for something. Whereas with Lexa, she might not always agree with my decisions, but she would never judge me for them. It would be so easy to just stay in the sidelines, watch other people make the tough decisions, and then berate them when things go wrong. That’s easy. The hardest thing is to make the decisions ourselves. And Lexa knows that better than anyone.”

Silence follows as Clarke picks food from both the bowl Lexa left with her and her own. Abby thinks and thinks about her daughter’s words, still she can’t muster up an image of the Commander that isn’t tainted by blood thirst, savagery, and distrust.

Abby stands up and wipes whatever dust there may be from her butt and thighs. Clarke looks up at her and she wants to say something that will make her daughter smile that smile that still reminds her of Jake so much, but she can’t. Abby has never been one to sugarcoat things.

“I do trust you, honey. But I don’t trust her,” she says, trying not to wince at the flash of hurt in Clarke’s eyes. “I’m your mom. That’s both a blessing and a curse, because I’m protective to a fault and I will always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her next betrayal.”

“I won’t leave her, mom,” Clarke counters with determination. Her daughter has always been a force of nature.

“I know, baby. I know.” She smiles, unable to keep the sadness from her voice. She takes Clarke’s face between her hands and kisses her forehead, before leaning back up. “There’s nothing I want more than to be proved wrong.”

 

\----

 

Her resistance is waning.

It’s hard to hold on to it when she sees how gentle and caring Lexa is with Clarke; how green eyes soften and shine with love each time they settle on her daughter. Clarke and Lexa live in perfect sync, as though they are one. They read each other effortlessly and complement one another in a way that reminds Abby of her and Jake.

Still, she holds on for the sake of motherhood and protectiveness, even if she knows that Clarke doesn’t need it. Clarke will always be her baby, after all. So it’s with a puffed chest and inflated pride that Abby trudges to the front of the entourage to ask, once again, for the Commander to lower the pace.

The first thing she sees is an aggravated roll of Lexa’s eyes. The second is a pointed look from Clarke towards the Commander and the third is the grudging press of Lexa’s lips, adequately scolded by her girlfriend.

“Commander,” Abby starts with a smirk, only to receive one of daughter’s signature pointed looks in return. Fine, she’ll behave. “My people can’t take this rhythm, they will be dead before we reach Arkadia.”

She can see Lexa curb another eye roll. “We are almost there, Chancellor.” Abby doesn’t miss the way that this time the Commander omits both one of her titles and her name. “If your people would endure this pace for a bit longer, we would reach Arkadia today still. Then you could all rest, safe and at home.”

“I think it’s fair, mom,” Clarke chimes in. “Don’t you want to return to Arkadia as quickly as possible?”

“Not at the expense of my feet.”

“You’re being a tad bit dramatic.”

“And your girlfriend is being a tad bit intolerant.”

“I am intolerant?” scoffs Lexa, and that is maybe the most undignified Abby has ever seen her. “You think we are savages and refuse to be convinced otherwise. I only ask you that we maintain a swift pace so we can avoid the dangers that are more likely to appear with each hour longer than necessary it takes us to reach Arkadia.”

“Again, mom. Fair.”

“Clarke, I don’t need you to mediate,” Abby snaps.

“I’m an ambassador,” Clarke exclaims, throwing her arms up with an exasperated groan. “Mediating is my job.”

“You could at least take your people’s side.”

“I am.” Abby can see she’s pushed a button, now. “I think that my people will be safer if we keep up a fast pace. Then we can rest at Arkadia. I’m saying this for my people.”

Abby crosses her arms, feeling every bit like a petulant child arguing against two adults. It should be the opposite.  Before she can complete her thought process, however, a sharp cry tears through the air and pierces her with fear.  Her head whips towards the Commander, whose eyes are wide and grave.

“This is what I feared.”

Ominous. Just what she needed.

“Moris!” The Commander calls out, and a hulking man runs to them, accompanied by other four, whom Abby assumes to be his team. “You, Hil and Eri stay with the Chancellor and the rest of the Skaikru retinue. Do _not_ let anything happen to them. Dupo, you stay with Wanheda.”

Another sharp cry sounds and Abby is all but ready to follow the three warriors, but Clarke is apparently not happy.

“What the hell, Lexa? We’re not leaving you here to fight by yourself.”

Lexa presses her lips, something she seems to do a lot when Clarke contradicts her, and unsheathes her swords. “I will not be fighting by myself, Clarke. I have ten other warriors with me. But my priority right now is to keep you and your people safe.”

Lexa’s words don’t have the desired effect. “Like hell I’m going to leave you.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not leaving your daughter alone with you,” Abby intervenes.

Lexa lets out a harsh breath before giving them a curt nod. “Change of plans,” she tells her men. “Moris, Hil and Eri take every Sky person to safety except for the Chancellor and Wanheda. Dupo, I’m counting on you to protect the two of them.”

The small group of Sky people have just disappeared amongst the trees when a third cry cuts through to them and suddenly about thirty people, their faces painted red and their clothes a ripped black, descend from the trees and circle their group. Abby goes to tell Clarke to stay close to her, but before she can her daughter steps closer to Lexa instead.

“What are they?”

“Rebels,” Lexa explains quickly in a hushed voice. “They have no people and live only to create chaos.”

The two groups seem to prolong the stare-off, until a burly rebel cries out and attacks the soldier closest to him, and the fight breaks out.

In all honesty, Abby is not entirely aware of what the hell is going on. There are swords flashing, people yelling in pain, other people yelling orders, and burly arms protecting her and Clarke from danger. Clarke makes herself useful with her gun, shooting at one or two rebels that dare come close to Lexa. The Commander is in her element, slashing at enemies and making sure that no one gets within striking distance of Abby and Clarke. However, admittedly, Abby just tries to avoid the brunt of the fight by staying put and taking the occasional step back.

As it turns out, several occasional steps back turn out to be enough for her to accidentally slip from the core of their group and out of her bodyguard’s sight. Suddenly, a hand claps over her mouth and an arm winds around her front, and she’s pulled away from the circle of warring grounders.

The foliage of the woods has started to stain her vision and Abby thinks they will manage to slip her away unseen, until Lexa turns, probably by reflex, and green eyes lock with hers, widening with fear. “Abby!”

This causes Clarke to spin around and see her too, but the girl doesn’t even have time to react because Lexa is already running towards Abby and her kidnapper. “Mom! Lexa, wait!” she hears more than sees her daughter scream.

“Stay there!” Lexa throws over her shoulder, not letting up. However, just a second later, Abby loses sight of the Commander completely.

Now on her own, Abby thrashes trying to slow the man down or even break free. He won’t budge though and they keep moving at the same pace as before. That is, until the man stops altogether with a jerk and stumbles forward, crushing Abby under him.

She yelps at the pain of having a man-sized brick fall on her, but then realizes that his hold has let up and focuses instead on getting out from under him. His limp body drops on the ground as Abby finally escapes his weight and she looks up to see Lexa several paces away, a determined expression on her face. A glance at the man’s neck almost has her puking — the Commander’s dagger is sticking out from it, a pool of blood starting to stain everything around it.

Lexa walks over to them and removes her knife from the rebel’s neck, before cleaning it on her jacket. Abby feels her stomach roll at the sight of the man’s vivid, red blood staining the Commander’s dark robes.

Her surprise grows when instead of sheathing the dagger Lexa offers it to her. “For protection,” is all the grounder leader says.

Abby looks at the weapon with reluctance. “I don’t know how to use it.”

“Slash at every enemy that comes near you.” Abby reckons that she has nothing better to protect herself, so she takes the proffered knife and then Lexa’s hand that helps her to her feet.

Abby catches movement from the corner of her eyes and barely gets a warning in before a man falls from a tree directly on Lexa. The girl struggles for a moment, but manages to throw the man off herself and stand up, albeit clearly still a bit dazed. He stands too, more furious than dizzy, and slashes at her with a long sword. Lexa steps back but the blade manages to slice her skin, and she's only quick enough to step back and avoid the cut being too deep.

That seems to awake something in Lexa, though. Abby watches in wonder as Lexa unsheathes one of her swords and stops the man's second attack in one lightning-fast, smooth movement. With her other hand, the Commander takes a knife from inside her boot and embeds it in his chest.

She holds it there until he stops moving. When he does, she pushes him to the ground, thus removing her dagger from his chest. Lexa sheathes her dagger and turns around, facing Abby again. “We should head back now.” Abby goes to argue, but Lexa raises her hand. “I will see to my wound once we have joined the group.”

Abby has no choice but to accept that. They run back towards the clearing to find that the fight has drizzled out and Lexa’s warriors have made prisoners out of the few rebels who survived. Abby cares little about that, though, because Clarke sees her finally and runs toward her to envelop her in a tight hug. She hugs her daughter back and kisses her temple, as mothers do, while whispering gentle reassurances of her wellbeing. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lexa leaning back against a tree, trying to be discreet about it.

Abby leans back and cups her daughter’s face, giving her a smile that she hopes is comforting. She kisses Clarke’s forehead before pulling away altogether. “You can go to your girlfriend now. I won’t take offense.”

“Thank you,” Clarke says, and she sounds a bit relieved. That is, until she sees the position Lexa is in and a strangled cry leaves her. “Lexa!”

Clarke rushes to Lexa’s side, kneels in front of her, and makes quick work of the clasps and buckles of the girl’s jacket, ignoring her tired ‘I’m fine, Clarke’. She opens it and lifts Lexa’s shirt, and gasps at what she sees, touching the skin around the long gash with care.

“It’s not too deep,” Abby says as she walks up to them. “It’s bleeding, but it doesn’t seem to have gone beyond any superficial blood vessels.”

Her daughter turns to her with wide eyes filled with hope. “So she’ll be fine?”

“It needs to be disinfected, but yes, I believe she will. I still want to take her to the medical bay for observation, though.” Abby bites her lip, tells herself that this isn’t the time to be proud. “We should probably travel faster.”

Lexa raises her eyes to meet hers. Abby sees surprise in them, before it gives way to acknowledgement and gratitude. She answers the girl’s nod with one of her own.

 

//

 

They arrive in Arkadia just before nightfall. Lexa is taken to the medical bay without a moment’s hesitation, which she is actually grateful for since it frees her from the usual, tiresome pleasantries that come with entering the territory of one of her clans.

Lexa is no stranger to hospitals, since she is a frequent client to the healers in Polis. However, she’s never seen anything like this. Everything is white and metallic, with elevated beds and tables filled with medical material, machines that shine a light on the patients, and people wearing strange, monotone jumpsuits. It reminds her of Clarke’s description of the Mountain, so she has trouble feeling comfortable. 

It helps that Abby and Clarke are both wearing those clothes as they observe her — it makes everything feel a bit more familiar. Her lover’s mother hums in thought. 

“It’s deeper than I thought. Not by much though, so she’s still safe. But we’ll need to stitch her.” 

Lexa has seen Clarke do it to other warriors and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. She swallows dryly, thinking of what awaits her. The needle piercing skin; the cord going through— 

“Really, Lexa?” She figures her face must be ashen, judging by Clarke’s raised eyebrow. “Of all things you could be afraid of, you chose stitches?” 

She presses her lips together. “In all fairness, Clarke, I have seen you do it.” She didn't expect her voice to be so rough as it is — it grates her throat and makes it harder to speak. She must be more hurt than she thought. “It is not an image that goes away so easily.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at her. “We’ll give you an anaesthetic if you want.”

“Does that involve a needle?”

“Yes. Now give me your hand,” Clarke demands, intolerant to Lexa’s hesitation. She does as told and watches as Abby flicks a finger at a cylinder with liquid and readies a thick needle over her hand. She swallows around the lump in her throat while trying to prevent her eyes from bulging. Clarke sweeps a wet piece of cotton on the back of her hand and nods at her mother.

Lexa grits her teeth when the needle pierces her skin, surprised that it doesn’t hurt as much as she expected, and Abby screws the cylinder into the mouth of the needle. Lexa gasps when she feels something flow into her veins. Fingers tucking a strand of hair behind her ear distract her and she raises her eyes to find a hue of blue more beautiful than the sky.

“Relax, baby,” Clarke coos, cupping her face. All of a sudden, all else is forgotten. “Tell me about your Nightbloods.”

She smiles, the small, lopsided kind she saves only for Clarke.

“Well, there is Aden, whom you already know well. He is the most talented one, but they all bring something special to the table.

“Beth is the bravest of all. She is always ready to climb the tallest tree, swim the angriest sea, fight the hardest battle. With time she will be wiser, learn to pick her fights. Alma comes from the Ice Nation, but no one would tell. I have met few people more compassionate or kinder than her. But she is so fierce and wise, too. If it were not for Aden, she might be the strongest candidate. Gaine and Mica are brothers. They are absolute terrors.” She feels herself smile fondly. “Obviously, they are Beth’s best friends. They need to find their compassion. And their good sense,” she chuckles. She’s starting to feel drowsy; her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. “Avo and Ara have been friends since they were born. It is good that each has the other to protect them, although sometimes I wish… they would come out of their shell more. They need to find strength in themselves as individuals. Oji are the wisest child I have ever met. They are wise beyond… their years and that makes them compassionate… but they are also an excellent fighter.” Her words are becoming slow and dragged. Nonetheless, Clarke’s full attention remains on her. “They would make a fine… Flame Keeper. Casper is strong and clever, a brilliant… warrior and strategist.” Lexa can barely keep her eyes open now, her vision is blurry, and her words are slurred. “He just… needs to… be more… compassionate… Neva, on the other…”

 

\----

 

Lexa comes to slowly, sleepily. Her eyes blink with effort, as though there is a weight pulling their lids down. She takes in her surroundings and recognizes the sterile white of Arkadia’s medical bay. She closes her eyes for just a moment.

 

\----

 

The second time Lexa wakes up, it is from the fingers caressing her hair and forehead with gentle touches. They are not Clarke’s, though.

“Come on, sweetie. Time to wake up.”

Lexa’s drowsiness is the only thing that keeps her from expressing her shock at hearing such soft, warm words directed at her in Abby’s voice. She doesn’t find it as hard as before to open her eyes as before.

“That’s it.” Abby reaches for something from the bedside table and pushes it gently into Lexa’s hands until she has a steady hold on it. It’s a glass with an orange liquid on it. “Drink this, it will make you feel better.”

Lexa does and hums contentedly at the flavor. “Orange juice,” she whispers, her throat still scratchy.

“Yes,” Abby chuckles, and sits at her bedside. “Clarke will be back in no time, I’m sure. I told her to have some sleep until you woke up. God knows that girl needs some rest.”

“I agree. Clarke never allows herself to stop. It is a nightmare to get her to sleep sometimes.” Her lips curl into a smile, and she will gladly admit that there is a fond tilt to it.

Abby purses her lips and looks down, and Lexa fears she has said something she shouldn’t. Maybe she crossed a line by mentioning her relationship with Clarke. Maybe—

“I should apologize.” Lexa isn’t quick enough to mask her surprise. “I judged you without preamble, without even caring to actually know you.”

“I betrayed you all. I understand your need to protect Clarke’s heart.”

“Yes,” Abby concedes. “But I should’ve listened when Clarke tried to change my mind. Also because you’ve let us into your Coalition. It was your idea to begin with, and I know it had a lot to do with wanting to protect Clarke.”

“I don’t want to be put in a position where I could betray her again. My people played just as big a part in my decision, however.”

“I know,” Abby says, but it’s not judgmental. It’s resigned. “And believe me, I would rather my daughter love someone who doesn’t have to put their people before everything else, but… I get that it’s also why she loves you. She sees a kindred soul in you.” Abby bites her lip. “I failed as a mother, Lexa. I robbed Clarke of her childhood, first by getting her father killed and her into solitary, and then by sending her to the ground. And then I came down too and my baby was a grown woman, making life or death decisions for an entire people, one that grew when the entire Ark fell to the ground. Realizing that made me overbearing. I no longer understood my daughter, because in spite of my leadership position I have never been through what she has. Not being able to understand my daughter and knowing that I am to blame for that — it’s heartbreaking, Lexa. And it made me resent you for taking that place.”

“I will never take your place, Chancellor Doctor.”

“Please, call me Abby,” the older woman chuckles.

“Abby,” Lexa relents. “The point remains, I could never take your place. Clarke’s heart is the biggest I have ever known, there is space for everyone she loves. The role I play in her life is different than the one you do. Yes, we understand each other and that plays a fundamental part in our relationship, but that is not all it is. On the other hand, if you sat down with Clarke to talk, without judgment, maybe you would come to understand her better. She craves that, Abby. She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she does. You are the only constant in her life, be it in space or on the ground. And you are her mother. Nothing and no one can replace that.”

Abby places a hand atop hers. “Thank you, Lexa. That is very sweet of you.”

“It is the truth.”

“I would like to believe so. Regardless, what I meant is that I was so busy judging you and resenting you, that I never realized that I was missing the whole point. I should appreciate the fact that my daughter has someone she can talk to, someone who can be there for her and understand her. Someone she can lean on. And that’s you, Lexa. And I thank you for taking care of Clarke when I wasn’t able or didn’t want to.”

“She can take care of herself.”

“Yes, of course. But two are always better than one.”

Lexa had no idea how much she yearned for Abby’s approval. She doesn’t need it, what she has with Clarke would not end if she didn’t get it — yet it is fulfilling to have it. She smiles and turns her hand over to grip Abby’s back.

“What changed your mind?”

Abby bites her lip, which Lexa is learning to be a sign that the doctor is deciding whether to be honest or not. Eventually, the older woman sighs.

“Your priority during the battle was my people’s safety and most of all Clarke. And then you went after me without a second thought. That helped me accept that you are truthful when you say that my people are now yours as well as in your intention to love and protect my daughter. And you treat her with such love… That’s all a mother can hope for. Your actions helped change my view of you.”

“Thank you, Abby,” Lexa says, touched by Abby’s words. She feels them to be true also in her core. “Although… You should know that Clarke takes care as me as much as I take care of her. Sometimes even more.”

“That’s even better. You take care of each other,” Abby nods resolutely, before propping both hands on her hips in reproaching manner. “Now, on that note… You were reckless.” Lexa raises her eyebrow. That is sounding too much like something Clarke would say. “I appreciate you saving me, but you shouldn’t have gone after me alone. If you’d died, Clarke would’ve been heartbroken, and I can’t have that. Now that you’re dating my daughter, your safety is just as paramount to me as hers. Seriously, you saw the state she was in the moment she realized you were injured. Your pain, physical or otherwise, causes Clarke pain, too. Never forget that.”

Lexa frowns, feeling the need to argue against Abby’s sound reasoning. “Was I supposed to just let you die?”

“With the way I was behaving, I honestly wouldn’t have blamed you,” Abby says with a smirk.

The thought is bewildering to Lexa. “I was betrayed by my ambassadors and didn’t execute them. I would never let you die just because you didn’t approve of my relationship with your daughter. Besides, you were saying that my death would have hurt Clarke deeply. The same reasoning applies.”

“Relax, Lexa. I was kidding.” Abby rolls her eyes, very much like Clarke usually does. “Just be careful next time, will you?”

Lexa only nods, because at that moment Clarke barges into the room, wide-eyed and frantic. She barely has time to smile at her love before the sky girl bounds over to her and envelops her in a tight embrace.

“Thank god you’re alright,” Clarke breathes into her neck, and Lexa returns the hug, feeling elation rush through her veins as they melt into each other.

“All thanks to your mother.”

At that, Clarke pulls back abruptly with an affronted look. “Excuse you. I stitched that wound myself, thank you very much.”

“Oh.” Lexa feels the tips of her ears heat up with embarrassment. With delight, too, at knowing that Clarke took it upon herself to treat Lexa personally. She presses a chaste kiss to her lover’s lips. “Thank you, Clarke.”

A throat clears and they both turn to find Abby still there, an eyebrow quirked in amusement. Lexa feels her cheeks burn and a quick glance at Clarke tells her she’s not the only one. Pale skin is now rosy and Lexa secretly loves the sight of it.

“I’m glad I’m no longer needed here. I’ll leave you two to… reacquaint.”

“Mom,” Clarke groans, hiding her face in Lexa’s neck in embarrassment. Lexa exchanges a look and a shrug with Abby. The doctor smiles at her before turning around and leaving the room.

The moment the door clicks shut, Clarke pulls back, though her arms remain around Lexa’s neck, and levels her with a withering glare.

“You’d better have a great explanation for why you went after my mom without backup.”

It’s Lexa’s turn to groan now, a luxury she allows herself only when in Clarke’s presence. “Clarke, your mother has already scolded me for that. One Griffin woman berating me for that is enough for a lifetime. Please don’t make it two.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve heard you say my surname.”

“Desperate times…” Lexa trails off with a smirk.

The silence stretches, comfortable and tender and warm. Clarke kisses her gently before ending it.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I am.”

“I love you.”

Lexa’s grin stretches so wide she’s afraid her lips may tear forever, and her hearts grows so large it might as well erupt from her chest. They don’t, and it doesn’t, and every nerve in Lexa’s body tingles at finally hearing the words she once thought she may never get to hear from Clarke.

“You do?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but it’s such a fond gesture that Lexa’s heart grows even larger. She’s sure that her chest is bursting at the seams by. “Yes.”

Lexa kisses her _niron_ , her _snogon_ , her _keryon_ , her everything — it’s deep and passionate, and it ends only when neither can hold their breath anymore. Their lips part but their foreheads remain together, and each breath, in or out, is a moment too long without kissing Clarke. Still, she endures. She needs to hear it one more time.

“Can you say it again?”                                                                                  

Clarke chuckles, breathless and husky, and Lexa’s resolve almost breaks.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
